


The Changing Man

by bumblegwen



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Weight Gain, i swear this is happier than it looks, ish, like really really mild, what have i become
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29116569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblegwen/pseuds/bumblegwen
Summary: Through the power of brownies, nightmares, and Jimmy getting very flustered, Thomas and Jimmy find their way to each other at last.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Comments: 13
Kudos: 58





	1. It Suits You

**Author's Note:**

> I blame discord for this. You know who you are.
> 
> I also blame Season 2 of Downton Abbey.
> 
> The title comes from The Changingman by Paul Weller, not because the song has anything to do with the story, but I just happened to listen to it a lot when I was writing this.
> 
> Finally, this fic was only intended to be about 5k and look what happened. Look at it. What have I done?

Jimmy stomped up the stairs to the attic with his cap screwed up in one hand, and the other passing over the walls to keep himself steady. The sight of Ivy turning pale and being ushered outside to be sick by Mrs Bates was enough to send him scurrying off. He only hoped Mrs Hughes, who had witnessed the nasty affair, wouldn’t come after him for a dressing down. At least, he thought with a wavering smile to himself, when Carson blew his top it was all shouting and noise and not much more. When Mrs Hughes was angry, she was disappointed. That was by far the worse of the two.

As exhaustion settled heavily into his legs, Jimmy hoisted his feet up the last few steps and sighed with relief. An hour ago, things had been spinning and now they weren’t. He grinned. That had to be good.

Of course, he had to relay the whole event. He owed it to the lonely old sod.

He pulled himself to his full height, stuck up his chin, and strode with confidence down the corridor to Thomas’ room. He knocked three times.

From inside, the familiar creak of the bed and padding footsteps reached his ears. He bounced on his heels, seconds passing like hours, face failing to wrestle back a grin.

Thomas opened the door with squinted eyes and something curious happening with his mouth, halfway between a scowl and a yawn. When he blinked and saw Jimmy, he huffed and opened the door wider, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Jimmy’s eyes flicked down at the man’s neat blue pyjamas and then to the contrasting messy black hair falling over his eyes. He bit the inside of his mouth.

‘How’d it go?’ Thomas asked hoarsely, as though he’d been fast asleep seconds before.

‘Bloody terrible.’

‘How terrible?’

‘She’s vomitin’ outside.’

‘And you left her by herself?’

Jimmy pouted. ‘Anna’s with her, she’ll be fine.’

Thomas rolled his eyes but smiled anyway.

‘Come on, you terror, an’ keep quiet. Don’t want Carson on me case again.’

Sniggering, because he knew Thomas would do this, Jimmy waltzed in, removed his jacket, and dumped both it and his cap on the bed. Meanwhile, Thomas walked to the other side of the room and sat himself on the floor with his back against the wall. The older man patted the floor beside him.

‘Sit down and tell me.’

Jimmy lifted an eyebrow. ‘On the floor? How old are you?’

Thomas reached over to the desk and prised open the bottom draw.

‘Old enough to be your boss and tell you to sit down.’

‘But, the bed or the chair’s – ’

Before Jimmy could say anymore, Thomas pulled out a bundle of what looked like something wrapped in a tea towel, but when he unwrapped it in his lap, revealed a little pile of dark, rich brownies. Jimmy’s mouth dropped open.

‘This temptin’ enough?’ Thomas asked with a sly smirk.

‘Oh you… Where the hell did you get those?’ Jimmy said, abandoning the bed and sitting himself down quickly, a foot away from Thomas, his back also against the wall. His hands itched to grab one. His mouth watered, especially now that the taste of beer was beginning to fade.

‘Daisy, of all people.’

‘Ha! She soft on you or somethin’?’

Thomas held out the bundle to Jimmy. ‘God, no. Not anymore.’

‘You… Daisy… Really?’

Thomas snorted as Jimmy picked up a couple of brownies and studied them one by one. Almost black underneath, the top covered with that thin, shiny crust. Jimmy licked his lips. He was about to take a bite when he remembered the glittering piece of information he’d just heard.

‘I can’t see you an’ Daisy, Christ…’ he laughed, ‘Seems wrong now.’

‘Won’t disagree with you there.’

He bit down on a corner and sighed with pleasure, letting his head fall back and his eyes shut for a sweet moment. He smiled to himself.

‘Bloody good, that is.’ he said dreamily.

‘I know, already had one.’

Jimmy opened his eyes and looked sideways at Thomas. The lamplight from his desk lit up his face, pale skin and dark hair, soft and sharp, full, soft smile that could easily turn into a nasty, biting insult. Jimmy couldn’t help but match his expression as his gaze wandered around Thomas’ face.

‘Couldn’t be arsed to wait for me?’ he asked.

Thomas shook his head. ‘Too hungry.’

Jimmy shrugged. That was fair enough. He took another bite. Bliss.

‘Are you plannin’ on telling me about your romancin’ or are you here to use me for sustenance?’ Thomas chided.

‘Both.’ Jimmy replied around a mouthful of food, ‘Weren’t anythin’ special, did feel a bit badly though. Got her a bit too drunk on beer. Was goin’ alright ‘til she were whinin’ she was tired.’

‘Close your mouth, you heathen.’

‘Shut up.’ Jimmy snapped, still eating.

‘I’ll snitch. I’ll tell Carson all about your rakish behaviour.’ Thomas drawled.

‘Nah, you’d never. And anyway, it gets worse than that.’

‘You did worse than ruin a girl’s night?’

‘Oh yes,’ Jimmy said, a slither of guilt sneaking into his words as he admitted the truth, ‘tried to kiss her an’ feel her up, didn’t I?’

A pause.

‘You… fucking… moron.’

‘I jus’ wanted to kiss her, there’s nothin’ wrong in that!’ Jimmy protested.

As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, Jimmy didn’t have time to jump away before Thomas smacked his arm with the back of his hand, causing Jimmy to yelp and giggle as Thomas glared at him down his nose. Through his laughter, he watched that unwavering grey gaze, for a second wondering if this was as frightening as Thomas could get, or if he was just immune now. Rubbing his stinging arm, Jimmy lifted his chin and popped the last of his brownie into his mouth, giving Thomas a smug grin in return.

‘I swear she had fun before all that.’ Jimmy continued, ‘Not my fault she’s all prim an’ can’t handle her drink.’

‘Whose reputation would’ve imploded had Carson seen this, eh?’

‘Don’t you worry, he’d still find a way to blame me an’ not her.’ Jimmy groaned, slumping.

‘Jimmy the womanising rapscallion, as dense as a forest.’

‘Hmm. Don’t think Mr Carson would be a nice as that. I just like a good time with a girl, y’know?’

Jimmy paused for a moment. He frowned. Then, he turned his head to Thomas and eyed him for a moment.

‘What about your romantic tales then? Why do I never get to hear about those?’

If Jimmy had asked that question a year ago, maybe even a few months ago, Thomas would have choked on the air he breathed and rushed Jimmy out the room. He could almost see it now; cheeks blazing red like apples, maybe sweating a bit. Now, Thomas turned to him with the most dry, withering expression Jimmy had ever seen.

‘You _actually_ think I’m out with anyone?’ Thomas asked.

‘Might be. Might be very sneaky about it, I dunno.’

Thomas held up his hand and started counting off fingers.

‘Well, let’s see, I’d be riskin’ imprisonment for starters – ’

‘Good point.’

‘ – and,’ Thomas continued as if Jimmy hadn’t spoken, ‘no-one ever wants more than a one night stand.’

Jimmy snorted, ‘That sounds alright to me, what you on about?’

‘And, we work every single day in the middle of bloody nowhere. Got no hope. Got no one, except you, and you’re off galivantin’ with poor innocents like Ivy, so I’ll just be the resident… bloody…’ Thomas swished a hand through the air as he sought out the words, ‘fat old homosexual on that rockin’ chair downstairs for the next fifty years, God help me.’

‘Wait, you’ll be… you what?’

Apparently trying to prove a point, Thomas slouched down even further and patted his stomach. Jimmy, confused, sat up and looked down at him. From this angle, Thomas’ middle did push out a bit like a gentle hill, and his chin did soften, but the silly git was sat just funny. Jimmy tilted his head to one side.

‘Already hallway there, aren’t I? Now I’ve gotta get old.’ Thomas joked, knitting his hands on top of his stomach.

He said every word with a tired grin, which was strange. The Thomas Jimmy knew retaliated to criticism at work with a vengeance sharper than knives. Of course, he took the mick out of himself in private, occasionally playing up the lavender enough to make Jimmy’s chest hurt from laughing. Right now, though, he didn’t seem to be joking, rather stating facts he had no choice but to accept.

Jimmy’s nerves squirmed. He didn’t like Thomas saying things like that about himself.

‘That’s… that’s a load of trollop, Thomas,’ he argued in a slightly high-pitched tone, before clearing his throat, ‘an’ it’s not like anyone you’ve been with has cared, and you’ve been with a Duke for Christ’s sake.’

Thomas smiled widely. ‘Yes, I have indeed.’

‘Exactly, nobody cares. S’not like I would go for, I dunno, Daisy over Ivy.’ Jimmy blurted out, ‘Ivy’s all sort of… sort of, like, soft and… curves and such, in’t she?’

Thomas’ eyebrows shot up. ‘You’ve got a type then?’

‘Yeah, and what’s yours?’

‘Arrogant fucking pricks.’

Jimmy chuckled, shuffling closer to Thomas, ‘I mean who’d you go for when you look at someone?’

Slowly, purposefully, Thomas rolled his eyes to Jimmy and stared sharply. His gaze cut through the air, like a shattered mirror with all the pieces pushed back together, searing through Jimmy’s bravado. Jimmy felt his mouth dry. Something odd, something too similar to what he had experienced with Ivy just half an hour ago, pooled in his stomach like molten rock. His cheeks burned.

And then, like snapping a pair of scissors, the spell broke. Thomas burst into his smoker’s wheezy laughter, shaking his head. At first, Jimmy glowered into the floor, his whole face hot. Yet Thomas kept laughing. Jimmy’s mouth wriggled and fought, but soon he broke down too. Slapping a hand on Thomas’ shoulder, he squeezed hard and tried not to fall over on Thomas completely.

‘I think you should rethink your preferences, Thomas.’ Jimmy choked out eventually.

‘Not a chance, I can feel those flames on me toes already.’ Thomas retorted.

‘Bugger off, you know what I mean, you turnip.’

‘I do.’ Thomas replied thoughtfully, shifting up again with his back flat against the wall.

Jimmy glanced between them as Thomas fished around on the edge of his desk and picked up his lighter and a cigarette. Less than a foot now. Jimmy’s eyes sunk to Thomas’ mouth as the flames sparked and illuminated his bottom lip. In a second, the glow vanished, replaced by a soft stream of smoke. Jimmy blinked, hard.

‘Pesky blonds.’ Thomas muttered.

Not sure where to look, Jimmy settled for resting his gaze on his own hands. Or hand. Swallowing thickly, he let go of Thomas’ shoulder and clasped his hands in his lap.

‘We’re a menace.’ Jimmy said lightly.

‘Agreed.’

‘Anyway, what you were sayin’ before about yourself,’ Jimmy rambled, ‘s’not right, you aren’t that big, you’re just…’

Somehow, Jimmy ended up staring at the desk just beyond Thomas. So many draws he hadn’t had a chance to rifle through, largely because Thomas would execute him if he did. So much he didn’t know about Thomas, and Jimmy Kent did not like knowing things. Burying the thought, he looked back to Thomas, who was smirking like a cat. That was worrying. That meant he was about to get exactly what he wanted.

‘Just what, James?’

The smug grin of a man who knew their opponent had no escape grew like wildfire. Jimmy cursed Thomas silently.

‘Just… sort of…’

‘Sort of what, _James_?’

Thomas was enjoying this. The patronising underbutler voice had made an entrance into their late night. What a git. Well, now he was really going to get it.

‘Podge-y.’

‘Podge-y?’

‘Nothin’ wrong with that.’

‘Jimmy, you’ve gone bright red. Again.’

Without meaning to, Jimmy’s right hand went straight to his face, checking to see if he was blushing like a tomato.

‘Jimmy?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Look at me.’

Jimmy did as he was told and found Thomas smiling pleasantly.

‘I was jokin’.’ Thomas said gently, ‘It is far too easy to make you uncomfortable, y’know.’

Jimmy let out a breathy laugh and pinched the bridge of his nose, ‘I’m gonna kill you one day, Barrow.’

‘Worth the cheap amusement.’ Thomas teased, but then suddenly frowned, ‘Hold on, did you just get concerned about me?’

Jimmy threw up his hands. ‘Course I bloody did!’

‘How sweet of you.’

‘Don’t expect it again any time soon, you manipulative twat,’ Jimmy teased back, ‘that was cruel!’

Thomas was far too happy with himself for Jimmy’s liking. He wanted to call the man more names, when Thomas started wincing.

‘Bugger this, I’m givin’ up.’

With a small grunt, Thomas got up and moved over to the leather chair in the corner, while Jimmy gaped after him.

‘You _are_ old man!’ he exclaimed.

‘Oi,’ Thomas snapped as he sat down again, ‘I’ll take podge-y, but not old.’

‘You’re not even that – ’

A knock sounded at the door. The heads of both men snapped in its direction. Jimmy turned away first, staring wide-eyed at Thomas. Tutting, Thomas snuffed out the cigarette, gestured to Jimmy and jabbed a finger at the side of the door, already getting up to open it. Jimmy scrambled to his feet and placed himself in the spot, flat against the wall, just as Thomas opened the door. Behind it, Jimmy’s breathed heaved. He shouldn’t have stood up so quickly. The taste of beer was back.

‘Alfred, what the bloody hell are you doing here?’ Thomas said dryly on the other side of the door.

‘Why’s so much noise comin’ from your room, Mr Barrow?’ the lanky bastard asked.

Peeking through the gap between the door and the frame, Jimmy caught Thomas resting a hand on his hip like a grumpy teacher. He smirked.

‘Go to bed, Alfred.’

‘I would if you keep it down with whoever you’re with.’

He could just about see Alfred peering around Thomas for signs of life, a frown miss-shaping his gormless face. His gaze flicked to Thomas’ face. Completely impassive. He should ask Thomas how he did it one day.

‘So, you can’t, then.’ Thomas said.

‘Can’t what?

‘Count. I’m the only person here. Obviously. There are hall-boys all over the place, did it cross your mind that it might be one of them?’

‘No need to be horrible, Mr Barrow.’

‘Bed. Now. I’m tired.’

By some miracle, Alfred left, which in turned left Jimmy gasping for air as he realised that he hadn’t taken a breath for the entire exchange. Thomas shut the door slowly.

‘I shouldn’t have to hide every fucking time I’m in here.’ Jimmy grumbled, ‘We’re mates, s’not anyone’s business.’

Thomas gestured to the door. ‘You should be off too, it was late enough when you came back.’

Jimmy gaped. ‘That’s not fair!’

‘D’you want Carson to sack you for tiredness?’

‘Still not fair.’ Jimmy sulked, swiping his coat and hat from the bed, ‘You’re treatin’ me like a child.’

‘You never fail to act like one.’

In the doorway, Jimmy was about to saunter off, when their conversation, before that tree-man had interrupted, popped into his head. Thomas held the door open, waiting for Jimmy to go, looking knackered and wanting of sleep. Yet, Jimmy didn’t move.

‘You look fine, by the way.’ he said.

‘Eh?’

‘It suits you… being like this.’

Thomas narrowed his eyes for a moment. Just when Jimmy thought he would comment, Thomas nodded down the corridor.

‘Get some sleep, Jimmy.’

As Jimmy walked away, he didn’t think about what had occurred until he reached his own door and opened it. He stared into his bedroom. His forehead creased.

‘It suits you?’ he muttered to himself, ‘Fucking hell.’


	2. Nothing From Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dying to publish this thing for days, we ain't stopping now. The chaos continues.

Jimmy did not look anyone in the eye the next morning. In fact, as Jimmy rushed down from his bedroom to breakfast, late as usual, his gaze did not lift from the floor.

While eating, he didn’t say a word, not even to Thomas. He could feel his eyes on the back of his neck as he hunched over his toast.

Silver eyes.

Jimmy shifted in his seat. He had to stop thinking.

Reprieve came when Carson stood to begin the day, and by which time Jimmy had inhaled the toast. He hopped up, somewhat too enthusiastically because the chair rattled as it pushed back. A few people glanced at him, but that didn’t matter as long as he could scarper right now.

‘Jimmy?’

The low voice and the hand on his shoulder was like a smack to his nerves by a cricket bat. Jimmy started. His head whipped around to meet Thomas’ concerned eyes, still silver, still sharp. Heat flowed up his neck. Jimmy gulped.

‘Yes, Mr Barrow?’ he croaked.

‘You feeling alright?’

Today, that was a difficult question to answer. Images flashed in Jimmy’s mind. He fought the urge to shudder at them and nodded.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Don’t look fine to me.’ Thomas said, inclining his head towards him, ‘Wake up and look alive, you don’t want to give anyone excuses to mention last night’s antics.’

Jimmy flushed crimson as he stammered, ‘Wha-What about last night?’

Thomas’ eyebrows met quizzically, as if he were observing a chimp doing something strange.

‘You went out with Ivy and got sozzled. Please don’t tell me you’re still drunk?’

‘Oh,’ Jimmy said quickly, ‘no, not drunk. Just a bad head.’

Thankfully, Thomas let go of his shoulder and offered a vaguely sympathetic smile. Jimmy forced himself not to sigh in relief.

‘Get powder and water and hide in the boot room for five minutes, I’ll cover for you. Go.’

Just like that, Jimmy was beaming. He thanked Thomas and headed straight for the kitchen. Maybe today would be fine and his mind was simply playing tricks on him?

Four hours later, Jimmy knew his mind was, unfortunately, not playing tricks on him. Not only that, it was completely and utterly Thomas’ fault.

And the boot room was a magnet for activity anyway, so he couldn’t really be blamed for that either.

Polishing boots was like scrubbing away at one’s brain. Jimmy’s vision blurred out of focus as his hand swiped back and forth with the brush over Mr Branson’s boot. One day, he thought idly, he wanted to be rich enough to have some nameless person polish his shoes and carry his clothes around like a donkey. For Mr Branson do be doing this to him was even more insulting; he’d been one of the staff, after all. He should know.

Jimmy pressed down harder as he turned the boot over, finding a dull spot on the back of the heel. He clenched his jaw.

He also didn’t notice the door swing open, nor the person entering the room with near silent footsteps.

‘What are you doing?’

Jimmy let out a squeaking yelp at the voice just by his ear, dropping the shoe and the brush with a clatter on the table he was sat at. He whipped around, chest heaving to see Thomas cackling, hands pressed to his stomach.

‘You bloody- You idiot!’ Jimmy gasped, ‘Are you tryn’a give me a heart attack?’

Thomas may have said something, or he may have continued laughing like a wheezy hyena, but when Jimmy stood up and faced him, he forgot to pay attention. Thomas dropped his hands and like last night, leaned into the door frame with his arms crossed, face still creased with laughter. The expression formed lines around his eyes, making them smaller, and on either side of his mouth, framing his full lips.

Jimmy’s gaze travelled. He didn’t mean it to. It wasn’t often that Thomas went soft like this, when he was normally so razor-sharp and pointed, and it showed. Even last night Thomas hadn’t relaxed quite like this. Laughter softened his jaw, dropped his shoulders down, made every motion flow with ease rather than racing. Thomas’ body arched in its lean. Jimmy’s eyes paused on the golden buttons of his waist coat. He swallowed thickly.

‘Ah I needed that.’ Thomas said cheerily, snapping Jimmy out of his trance, ‘Wonderful work, James.’

Jimmy laughed nervously and shifted, ‘Did you need me?’

‘Oh, yes- can you come upstairs for ten minutes? His Lordship’s had a load of books ordered up from London, wants them ordered and shelved.’ Thomas said, switching back to his snipped work tone.

Jimmy wrinkled his nose, ‘Aren’t there hall-boys do to that?’

‘The silly buggers are on their afternoon off.’

‘Oh Christ… Fine. Only ten minutes, mind,’ Jimmy sighed, ‘Carson wants the silver polished after this. As if they need shiny forks to eat.’

‘If we get it done quickly, I’ll help you.’ Thomas said over his shoulder as he began striding away.

Jimmy grumbled to himself but was secretly grateful as he quick-stepped to keep up. How the underbutler managed to move so fast was beyond him. As they climbed the stairs, Thomas ahead and he behind, he grinned to himself. At least now he had the opportunity to get him back. Jimmy opened his mouth to make a good threat and glanced up at the same time. The words stuck in his throat. His eyebrows met in the middle.

Thomas had quite broad shoulders. His uniform, sleek and black, fit snugly over his body. The image of Thomas laughing arose, of the emerald waist coat, also form fitting.

Jimmy shook his head as they reached the top and walked out into the abbey. Whatever that feeling was, like warm pins and needles, evaporated as he straightened himself to a stance fitting of a footman. Downstairs smelt like food and boot polish, upstairs smelt like wood varnish, flowers, and vaguely of dust. He breathed in heavily.

Swift as an arrow, Thomas led him across to the library where pale English sunshine warmed the hundreds of books on the shelves, scenting the air with a faint sweetness. However, Jimmy couldn’t enjoy the warmth.

‘Oh no.’ Jimmy murmured, halting in the middle of the room.

Piles and towers of books rose out of wooden boxes all over the floor in front of the bookcases. Jimmy’s eyes widened. There had to be at least a hundred books.

‘Like what you see, Jimmy?’ Thomas called over cheerily.

Jimmy glared at him.

‘You want me to sort through all of this?’

‘Yes.’ Thomas replied, very, very sweetly.

‘I hate you.’

‘Get to work.’

‘Do… do we really – ’

Thomas snapped his fingers and pointed to a box beside him.

‘Yes, we do, stop complaining.’

‘Fine.’

Huffing, Jimmy approached one of the boxes and began lifting stacks out one by one, while Thomas did the same nearer to the bookcase. They worked in companionable silence, the only sounds being that of Thomas gradually breathing heavier and heavier, and Jimmy grumbling about the amount of books they had to sift through.

Jimmy glanced up through the open doors to the saloon, where he was sure no one had passed in half an hour. No matter how long he waited, not one set of footsteps, other than the odd maid, made an appearance. He paused to stretch his back, eyes still on the stairs.

‘Sod this.’ he announced.

Thomas turned around from the bookshelf at the same time as Jimmy removed his jacket an rolled up his sleeves.

‘Jimmy, what are you doing?’ Thomas asked despairingly, as though addressing a hall-boy.

Jimmy waved a hand to the windows. ‘It’s hot in here, I’m not doin’ this bundled up.’

Pausing from his lifting, Thomas also glanced through the doors. He sighed.

‘The moment you see another soul, you dress properly, is that understood?’

Jimmy smiled in return and took the time while Thomas also slipped off his jacket to wander to the window and look out over the sprawling green. The leaves of the trees sparkled like emeralds in the light, the grass below soft and inviting. He could imagine, without much effort, himself lying down and basking under the sun on that grass.

‘Where is everyone, then?’ Jimmy asked without looking away.

‘Lady Mary’s shopping, Mr Branson’s out with Miss Sybbie, his Lordship and her Ladyship went to York.’ Thomas reeled off, ‘Don’t know about anyone else. Where’ve you put your jacket?’

Jimmy turned from the window and leaned back against the corner of the wall from the sill, gesturing to the sofa where his once neat jacket now flopped over the back of it. Thomas gave him a searing look, but did the same with more care and proceeded to roll up his sleeves, saying something about keeping an eye out for Carson.

Jimmy tilted his head. Thomas’ cheeks flushed pink at the tops from the heat, he supposed, his immaculate hair threatening revolt. As his gaze travelled down Thomas’ uniform to those damned buttons again. A small slither of white shirt protruded from underneath his waist coat, suggesting a belly pushing gently behind. His gaze flicked back up to Thomas’ face and the gentle curve of his jaw which seemed to have formed over time, and which Jimmy was only now seeing. He wondered, for less than a second, what it would be like to see even more of Thomas.

‘Jimmy?’

Jimmy almost swore as his gaze clicked back into focus on Thomas, who had an eyebrow raised like a knife ready to swipe and a bemused stare underneath. Clearing his throat, Jimmy righted himself and stood up straight.

‘Why’re you starin’ at me like a loon?’ Thomas asked.

‘Uh…’ Jimmy scrambled for words, ‘Nothin’, no reason. Ju.’

‘I thought you took powders? You’re not unwell, are you?’

‘No, course not.’ Jimmy said, flashing a smile, ‘I’m dandy.’

‘Right.’

Thomas sounded like he did not believe a word, but left Jimmy alone. Meanwhile, Jimmy went back to the books as his thoughts raced.

That wasn’t right. Was he unwell? Biting his lip, Jimmy brought the images back to the forefront of his mind; the gold buttons and the waist coat that clung to Thomas’ torso, his smiling face from the night before, Thomas slouched against the wall next to him with the thin fabric of his pyjamas showing a newly gained paunch around his middle.

He snuck another look at Thomas. The heat had defeated his pomade, allowing it to fall boyishly over his forehead. His black eyebrows frowned in concentration as his nimble hands began to order the books. Jimmy looked away. His mouth dried.

It was a trick. It was nothing from nothing. Thomas was just his friend.


	3. Far Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this flimsy plot follow any sort of logic? Nope. It's so fragile you could think bad thoughts and it would fall apart.

Over the next few weeks, there was hardly a moment to think at all.

As if taking revenge for their day of relative calm, the entire house was thrown into feverish bouts of chaos as parties and lunches suddenly materialised. Jimmy spent the best part of a month exclusively darting about serving cocktails and helping maids move furniture, because apparently one ball for Lady Rose was not enough. The worst part of all was that Thomas wasn’t there.

They all knew how much his Lordship needed to travel up and down from London on business, but the activity increased twofold, dragging Thomas, up and down the country like bait on a fishing line. Each trip became longer than the last, from some lasting a single day to a week. In that time, Thomas was either nowhere to be seen or a dark figure dashing up to bed after a painfully long journey from the city. Why Bates wasn’t going, when this was actually _his_ job, was beyond good reason.

To Jimmy, this was positively unjust.

He could have fun again with Ivy, at least, finding the time to pull her aside and sheepishly apologise for his behaviour. Even that was done under Thomas’ insistence, but the eased tension meant he could flirt her into a tizzy right under Alfred’s nose. The silly tree-like git fell for every ploy. It was wonderful.

Yet, these little games were empty without Thomas to scold him or wink in encouragement. On the odd occasion that Thomas did turn up, he was on the move and Jimmy barely got a good look at him. He almost thought the man had stopped eating until he noticed hall-boys carrying trays of hot food up to the men’s quarters. Jimmy would poke his head out from his room to see this or notice them scurrying past him just after their dinner. He would shake his head and move on.

After five weeks of madness, however, Jimmy had had enough. An hour after seeing yet another hall-boy bringing a tray to Thomas’ room, he slipped out of his own bedroom, pulled his dressing gown tightly around himself, and pattered down to Thomas’ door.

‘Thomas?’ he called in a low voice, having knocked and heard nothing, ‘You in there, mate?’

‘Hold on.’

Jimmy stepped back from the door as it opened, but only just enough for Thomas to pop his head out round it. The older man offered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Jimmy’s gaze darted to Thomas’ mouth and back. This smile was plastered on, badly. He narrowed his eyes. Thomas was usually so smooth.

‘What is it?’ Thomas asked.

‘Can I come in?’

The pained look passed over Thomas like a short-lived breeze. He nodded sharply and backed away, disappearing into the bedroom. Jimmy’s mouth opened and shut. He stepped inside.

Not much had changed since the last time he’d been in here, many weeks ago, apart from a suitcase on the floor beside the dresser. He sighed and marched right over to the comfortable chair in the corner and plonked himself down.

‘You’re a hard man to pin down, Mr Barrow,’ he teased, ‘haven’t seen you in ages.’

‘Ah. Well.’

Jimmy sat up. Thomas hunched over his desk, leaning on his knuckles. His eyes glared into the wooden surface as if it were offending him personally. Jimmy followed his gaze and realised he was leaning over his uniform and spools of black thread.

‘What’re you doin’?’ Jimmy asked cautiously.

‘Just… fixin’ things.’

‘Fixin’? Did you break somethin’ or- ’ Jimmy cut himself off, paused, and jumped up from the chair, ‘Oh my God, have you been cryin’?’

Thomas smiled, but even as he did his eyes began to glisten. He gestured vaguely to his face.

‘Bloody pathetic.’ Thomas muttered.

With a heavy sigh, Thomas moved over to the bed and sat on the edge, causing the bed to squeak. He buried his face in his hands, elbows on his thighs. Jimmy’s stomach dropped, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. His fingers curled and uncurled.

Despite his better judgement, despite knowing this wouldn’t look good if anyone came in, Jimmy sat next to him and gripped the edge of the mattress. He tried to peek through Thomas’ hair, but to no avail. Shadows filled the hollows of his eyes. He bit his lip.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked quietly.

‘If I told you, you’d think I was bein’ ridiculous.’ Thomas said, his voice muffled by his hands.

Jimmy frowned. ‘You don’t know that.’

‘Trust me, I do.’ he replied bitterly.

‘Oi, give me some credit! I’m not completely awful, am I?’ Jimmy protested, half asking Thomas and half wanting reassurance that he wasn’t the intolerable monster he’d been a couple of years ago.

Thomas lifted his head and rested it in one hand, while the other that was covered by his glove hung off from his leg. Thomas’ smiles were precious and plenty when they were together. Jimmy took pride in this and told himself he simply enjoyed seeing his best friend laugh. Now, as if to please Jimmy, as if he could see right through him, Thomas gave a small grin.

‘You aren’t awful. I’m the last person who could think that about you.’ Thomas said.

‘Good, so what’s wrong?’

‘Promise you won’t laugh?’

Jimmy smirked. ‘I’ll do me best.’

Thomas sighed and rubbed his face.

‘I s’pose that’s the best I’ll get of you.’ Thomas mumbled, ‘Right, me uniform’s not broken, it don’t bloody fit anymore. I’m tryin’ to let out the seams.’

Jimmy stared at him incredulously.

‘In five weeks?’

‘Yep.’

‘I don’t see any difference.’

Thomas rolled his eyes. ‘That’s ‘cause you’ve barely seen me.’

Before Jimmy could say more, Thomas stood up to his full height and if Jimmy hadn’t been sitting down already, his legs would have turned to jelly. Where there had been a somewhat noticeable softness around his middle was now undeniable paunch, the beginnings of a belly that pushed out from his hips as well as ahead. The night shirt was tight, hiding nothing. Jimmy’s gaze flicked up to Thomas’ face, where his jaw had softened, and a pocket of fat was taking shape just under his chin.

Jimmy cleared his throat. And again. He knew he needed to be saying something helpful.

‘I’m gonna say somethin’ that’ll make me sound like a right girl.’

‘Bloody hell.’

‘I think…’ Jimmy looked him up and down again before saying, ‘I think you look fine. Handsome, even, just like always.’

Thomas’ eyebrows raised. ‘Crikey, I didn’t know Shakespeare had come to Downton.’

Jimmy chuckled, ‘Shut up, I don’t have time to read twenty books a day unlike someone I know.’

‘I just have a brain unlike someone _I_ know.’ Thomas bit back with a wicked grin.

‘Anyway, hold on, I’m meant to be helpin’ here.’ Jimmy said, leaning back on his elbows as he appraised Thomas, ‘You know what though, I’ll sound like a complete idiot just for you.’

‘Go on.’

‘It’s sort of… cat-like.’

Thomas tilted his head to one side.

‘You losin’ the plot?’

‘No! I mean, if I had to put your appearance into words, I’d say you’re like a well-fed cat.’

As Jimmy said all of this, he waved and gestured around wildly like he was attempting to pluck words out of the air. Like someone witnessing a person wave their hands around a lot, Thomas’ mouth wriggled and tightened, holding back laughter with every ounce of his willpower. Eventually, Jimmy put his hands down. They landed on his thighs with a muted slap.

‘What?’ he asked.

Thomas shook his head and sat back down next to him, knitting his hands in front of him. The older man looked at him sideways, all soft and grey, eyes like clouds. Jimmy tried to stop staring into them and managed only to let his gaze wander along the faint lines surrounding them, like thin paths leading to a lake. At some point, he started holding his breath.

‘Jimmy?’ Thomas whispered.

‘Yes?’

‘You’re an idiot.’

A smile cracked through Jimmy’s face. He breathed out.

‘I might be an idiot, but I cheered you up, didn’t I?’

Thomas groaned and, in a slightly odd move, lay back on the bed with his feet still on the floor, leaving Jimmy above. Chuckling, Jimmy shook his head and set himself back on his hands, turning to Thomas as the other man shifted about.

‘You alright down there?’ Jimmy asked lightly.

‘I just…’ Thomas said slowly, ‘I didn’t think it were that much, an’ then I tried to put me bloody trousers on.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Thomas.’ Jimmy huffed.

Jimmy narrowed his eyes and watched Thomas’ gloved hand glide over his stomach and back, up and down from his ribs. His eyes stared off elsewhere, jaw clenched.

He didn’t know why he was doing this.

Huffing again, Jimmy lay down next to him so they were shoulder to shoulder and arm to arm. Even as Thomas whipped around with wide, panicked eyes, Jimmy turned his body on his side, stuffing one hand under his cheek and the other cupped over Thomas’ shoulder.

‘Thomas, I thought you didn’t care?’ Jimmy said seriously, ignoring Thomas’ gaping nonsense.

‘I shouldn’t. This happened durin’ the war, too.’ Thomas said wistfully after regaining some composure, staring up at the ceiling, ‘Had to do somethin’ to stop me-self sleepin’ an’ seein’ those... things. Now… I don’t know why.’

Jimmy wriggled uncomfortably. The less was said about the war, the better.

‘Understandable.’

Thomas twisted his head to Jimmy, who said nothing as Thomas’ gaze drifted around his face. Jimmy kept absolutely still. From this close, just inches between them, the heat of Thomas’ body radiated like a boiled kettle. Indeed, Jimmy could smell tea and cigarette smoke. He glanced at Thomas’ mouth and back to his eyes. They were hooded, now. And darker. Like smoke.

Thomas sucked in a shuddering breath.

‘It’s gettin’ late, Jimmy.’ he said in a low voice, absent of conviction.

‘Are you alright, though?’

‘Yeah… thank you.’

‘If you ever feel like that again, will you come to me?’

Thomas beamed.

‘Yeah.’

Jimmy wanted to reach out. He was sure he hadn’t ever wanted to do that before, but in this moment, he wanted to grab Thomas by the shoulders and hug him until he couldn’t breathe. He gulped and offered a nod instead.

‘Are you goin’ back to London again?’

‘I don’t know what it bloody is he’s doin’, but yes.’ Thomas said tiredly, ‘And I don’t know why he can’t bring Bates.’

‘As if you don’t love swannin’ about in London, meetin’ all sorts.’ Jimmy said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Thomas snorted, ‘True, but the last few times it were a bit borin’ on me own. Mostly just eatin’ and sleepin’.’

‘Can’t you get out of it?’

Thomas shook his head.

‘Well then,’ Jimmy said brightly, ‘you’ll jus’ have to do somethin’ really darin’ so you can tell me all about it, won’t you?’


	4. Nightmarish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so chaotic. Is this what chaos is?

Thomas stayed for a week. There were no more night-time conversations, but Jimmy had never laughed so much in his life. He got his grins and winks from Thomas as he wound Alfred up, causing his chest to swell with wicked pride, played show tunes on the piano while Thomas and Daisy danced in the evening, which was a sight to behold, and didn’t get caught or shouted at by Carson once. Given how many times the underbutler had shut doors on his misbehaviour or shooed him into the boot room when they were mucking about in the corridors, just in time to avoid a scolding, he knew this was largely down to Thomas.

All the while, Thomas was happy again and no more was mentioned about his worries.

Compacted into seven days, Jimmy thought he had died and gone to heaven, with or without the work alongside it.

In the first night that Thomas was away again, Jimmy carried on as usual.

The second, third, and almost every night after, he was drowning.

Jimmy woke up. His chest heaved. His breath wheezed and screamed and scraped his throat. Sweat pooled in his hair, on his forehead, coating his body. His fingers dug into the mattress beneath him.

He shot out of bed.

Every step pressed an ache into his lungs, like a heavy boot crushing his sternum. He thought he would drop before reaching Thomas’ door, but somehow raised his fist and slammed it into the surface. His other hand clutched the doorframe. The corridor around him swung like a merry-go-round and blurred. He forced his eyes to blink. It wouldn’t go away.

The door opened.

‘Jimmy?’

He opened his mouth to speak. No sound came out. The air constricted around his throat. He gasped.

He felt a hand on his arms, coaxing him into the room. His breath hitched when one hand vanished and the door clunked behind him.

‘Can you tell me what’s wrong?’

Jimmy shook his head. His chest heaved. He couldn’t stop. The endless, racing loop of lungs heaving and pumping like a violent, out of control machine, the air crushing him, every cell in his body screaming and screaming and-

Arms wrapped around his shoulders. Warm. Heavy. Soft. Blanket of heat, the smell of tea and smoke and something sweet filling his nose. Thomas.

He inhaled deeply into Thomas’ chest, shutting his eyes in the dark. His fingers clung to Thomas’ back, his nails pressing into the material of his night shirt, he guessed from its comforting softness.

Slowly, so slowly that he had no idea of the time, his lungs relaxed. That was when the shaking started, and loud, stuttered sobs burst out of his chest.

One of Thomas’ hands moved up to the back of his head and held him to his body, a thumb stroking through his damp hair, muttering words Jimmy could barely hear. Cocooned like this, he wanted to stay here forever, listening to the quiet, smooth tones of Thomas’ voice.

‘I’m sorry.’ he croaked out after some time.

‘Nothin’ to be sorry for.’

‘Were you asleep?’

‘No,’ Thomas said gently, ‘I’ve not been back long. You’re fine.’

‘It was- It was nightmares about… the… the war.’ Jimmy uttered between sniffs.

Thomas tightened his hold on him.

‘And now you’re safe again.’ The older man said firmly.

‘Only if I’m awake. Or here. Or n-not… not alone.’

‘You’re not alone.’ Thomas murmured, like a gentle reminder rather than correcting him. Like the muted drumming of rain on a window growing louder. Like the clouds clearing for the sun.

Jimmy buried his face in the sturdy shoulder before him and breathed in deeply again. The scent pulled him down to the earth.

‘Thank you, Thomas.’

‘Anytime.’ Then, after a pause, ‘D’you think you can get some sleep?’

Jimmy froze. His neck muscles tensed.

‘Do I have to?’ he asked weakly.

Thomas began to pull away. ‘You’ll only feel worse tomorrow if you don’t.’

Just as Thomas dropped his hands, Jimmy grabbed his arm. Panic crept up his throat. Thomas stared at his hand. His lips parted.

‘Thomas, I can’t.’ Jimmy rambled desperately, ‘I’m not goin’ back. I’m not doin’ it. Please, I can’t be alone in there, please – ’

‘Do you understand what you’re askin’ me to do?’ Thomas interrupted.

‘Yes. I know.’

Without another word, Thomas stepped away from him and gestured to the bed. Jimmy sighed in relief and dashed under the covers before either of them could change their minds, yanking the thin duvet right up to his chin.

For a moment, Thomas stood over him with moonlight illuminating his face, hands on his hips like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Jimmy lowered his gaze.

‘I know I’m askin’ a lot.’ Jimmy said, ‘I know this isn’t fair. You’re my best friend.’

‘It’s fine.’ Thomas replied unconvincingly.

Finally, he got into bed and lay on his back. Jimmy shuffled back against the wall behind him to make room as the bed creaked through the silence. The dark disguised his face, but Thomas’ shallow breaths tickled Jimmy’s nose, and his body radiated heat like a fire. Instinctively, Jimmy shifted closer to him, but he didn’t have to shift far. He frowned. His back was cold.

‘You hoggin’ the cover?’ he whispered.

Thomas snorted, ‘I’m bigger and older and I’m your boss, I’m takin’ as much as I can get.’

‘Are your bedside manners always this bad?’

Silence.

Jimmy broke first, giggling as quietly as he could force himself to, while Thomas shook the whole bed with his with silent laughter. Maybe because he was exhausted, maybe because he could feel adrenaline zipping through his veins, or maybe because he was just happy to have his best friend beside him, this sent Jimmy into hysterics. His head bowed into Thomas’ chest as he cackled.

‘I’m going to get hung, drawn and quartered tomorrow.’ Thomas chuckled.

‘You an’ me both.’

As his laughter died down, Jimmy shifted closer, if such a thing was possible in the tiny, narrow bed made for pencil people. At first, he nosed Thomas’ shoulder, then gave up entirely and settled down with his cheek pushed into Thomas’ chest. He hummed contently, laying his arm over Thomas while the man he was half lying on threaded his fingers through Jimmy’s hair.

Jimmy smiled to himself. This was like sleeping next to a living, breathing pillow who told jokes. He nuzzled Thomas’ night shirt and breathed him in.

‘God, you’re comfortable.’ he sighed.

‘Hmm.’

‘I’m never movin’ again.’

‘Sleep.’


	5. Changing Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do apologise for the highly inconsistent length of these chapters. Woops.

Waking was as easy as breathing. Jimmy’s eyes fluttered open and found himself face to face with a sleeping Thomas. He grinned and wrapped his free arm that wasn’t trapped under his own body around Thomas’ middle, letting his eyelids fall shut again.

They snapped open. He shifted his head back. His gaze flicked down.

How long had Thomas been gone this time?

The night shirt was snug, riding up, probably from moving about in his sleep. Lightly, Jimmy traced a finger down Thomas’ body. He shot a look back at Thomas’ face to see if he woke at the touch, but he remained motionless.

His cheeks had filled out a fraction, as had the skin just under his chin. His shoulders seemed rounder, or maybe Jimmy’s tiredness was playing tricks on him, and then his gaze dipped further. Thomas’ belly curved out distinctly, far more than it had before, pressing comfortably into Jimmy and spilling over his hips. A pale strip of skin peeked out from under the shirt.

‘You’re awake then?’

Jimmy jumped at Thomas’ voice. The older man looked blearily down at him, lines pushed between his eyebrows in sleepy confusion. Thomas rubbed his eyes and stared at Jimmy.

‘What were you just doin’? Felt like…’ Thomas trailed off.

‘Uh- I was… I was…’

Thomas raised an eyebrow expectantly. Jimmy gulped. His cheeks burned.

‘Things are different now, aren’t they,’ Jimmy glanced at the non-existence of space between them as he spoke, ‘Now we’ve done this?’

Thomas’ frown deepened. ‘Of course not, don’t worry.’

‘Right.’

Somehow, the words carved out a little hollow in Jimmy’s chest. Why? With this golden warmth, the duvet, Thomas’ body shielding him from the outside world, Jimmy didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Abandoning the emptiness growing inside, Jimmy snuggled into Thomas, burying his face in the man’s shoulder. His fingers picked at Thomas’ shirt. He shut his eyes.

‘We have to get up soon.’

‘When?’ Jimmy mumbled.

‘Half an hour maybe.’

In response, Jimmy pushed his arm around him, pulling Thomas in. A low, contented sigh rose up his throat without him meaning to vocalise it at all. He smiled into Thomas’ chest, his nose just touching the skin below his collar bone. In unison, Thomas curved around him, pressing his forehead into Jimmy’s hairline. Jimmy felt Thomas brush his fingers along his arm, barely grazing, as though caressing a feather.

‘I won’t lie,’ Thomas whispered, ‘I don’t want you to go.’

Something welled up in Jimmy’s chest.

‘Why?’

‘I think by now, you know why.’

The steady pace of Thomas’ fingertips gliding over his skin, as even as a pendulum, sank Jimmy further and further into his arms. He pressed himself into Thomas and the comfortable, rounded softness of his middle. His arm tightened around Thomas.

‘But… but you should, you should go.’ Thomas murmured.

‘Don’t want to. Cosy.’

‘Be sensible.’

Grumbling and swearing, Jimmy removed his arm and let Thomas climb out from the covers. When Thomas was out, Jimmy swung his legs around and dragged his hands down his face. He sat there for a couple of minutes, eyes unfocused as they gazed into the floor like it was a pool. The shuffling sounds of Thomas changing into his uniform filled the air.

‘I haven’t slept that well in bloody ages, Thomas, that was heaven.’ he mumbled, shaking off the sleep.

‘Do you get those nightmares a lot?’

Jimmy’s heart jumped at the concern in Thomas’ voice. He stared at the floor, willing himself to wake up.

‘Yeah, yeah, dunno why. Hasn’t been that bad since just after the war. I weren’t on the front long, but Christ.’

‘I know. I used to get them too.’

Jimmy lifted his head. ‘You did?’

Thomas nodded and picked up his waist coat from a neatly folded pile of his other clothes. Heat sunk in Jimmy’s stomach and his tongue felt useless and dry in his mouth. The white buttons of Thomas’ shirt strained at this new, small heft pushing behind them, curving over his belt. His trousers had not been treated kindly either.

‘Plenty and brutally, didn’t sleep right for months afterwards.’ Thomas answered without noticing.

‘Uh, Thomas? How long have you been goin’ to London this time?’ Jimmy said slowly.

‘About a month. I think whatever was happenin’ there is over now. It’ll be nice to feel solid ground under me feet and not a bloody train.’

As Thomas spoke, he pulled on his waist coat and adjusted it around himself. He smiled up at Jimmy, fingers fiddling with the lowest button. The smile turned to a frown. He looked down at himself, smoothed his shirt, and tugged the two sides together again. His hands dropped.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ Thomas muttered.

‘D’you need help?’ Jimmy asked nervously.

Thomas waved him off, ‘No, I’ll get me needles out again, you might want to- ’

‘I’m goin’!’

Jimmy darted from the bed and straight to his room, slamming the door behind him. He fell back against the cool surface and lay his palms flat against it. He gulped a mouthful of air, doing little to dampen the raging flush flood his face, nor the sudden hot discomfort between his legs.

‘Bugger.’ he whispered to no one.

He dressed too quickly. Taming and styling his hair in familiar waves took no time at all, leaving him leaning on his dresser, drumming his fingers on the tops of his thighs like playing scales on the piano in the servant’s hall. Staring into nothingness did little to force the minutes away. His eyes settled on the corner of his bed and he shivered. It was the perfect mirror of the place where he had just woken up, yet his blankets and duvet were thrown about, forming sharp rocks and caves.

Jimmy gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath.

He marched downstairs to breakfast in stony silence and remained his with head bowed for its entirety. A seat away, he couldn’t help but prickle at the scrape of Thomas sitting down. He glowered into his toast and ripped out another bite. As soon as Carson dismissed them, Jimmy fled.

The silver had never looked so immaculate. His serving and speed drew Carson’s praise for the first time in weeks. By the upstairs dinner, Carson was practically singing with puffed up pride and even told Alfred to follow Jimmy’s example. He should have been radiating self-confidence and snarking Alfred within an inch of his life. It should have been the best day of his life.

Whenever Thomas entered a room, Jimmy made sure he was on his way out of it or facing the other way, flirting Ivy senseless. Yet, his heart wasn’t in it and when Ivy coyly suggested another outing to the pub in the village, Jimmy retreated like a rat up a drain.

Jimmy stalked around his bedroom in his night clothes, pausing every few minutes to stand and stare at the bed. He had not touched the covers since he left the room the night before. The red blanket, half hanging off the mattress, leered at him. He snapped up his gaze and continued pacing.

Scowling, Jimmy halted by the door.

It was inevitable that he would cross over to Thomas’ bedroom once again, like the sun rising and a new day beginning. However, upon bursting in without knocking, Jimmy looked about and found it empty. His fingers squeezed around the door handle. He pulled himself away.

Taking a couple of steps at a time, Jimmy hurried downstairs, skimming past the last of the hall-boys on their way up to bed. He ignored their polite goodnights, knowing if he stopped to think about what he was doing, he would run away.

The boot room was empty, as was the servant’s hall. Just as he was about to run outside, Jimmy stumbled to a stop and sniffed the air. Smoke.

He entered the kitchen cautiously, his footsteps soundless. There he was.

Cigarette smoke rolled out from Thomas’ lips like fog. The cigarette itself glowed between his fingers, almost down to the last stubs. He was still in his uniform and sat at the small wooden chair Mrs Patmore had by her desk, with a cup of tea in front of him. Jimmy’s gaze flicked from a small plate dusted with crumbs to Thomas’ aimless stare. He didn’t know anyone else with grey eyes, not like these. Not as deep as these, nor as impossibly light.

Jimmy’s luck ran out and his next step creaked on a floorboard. Thomas to lifted his head and met his eyes. The older man smiled faintly.

‘I couldn’t sleep.’ Jimmy blurted out.

‘I can see that.’ Thomas huffed and stood up with a muted sound from his throat. ‘D’you want a cup?’

‘Please.’

Forcing himself not to watch Thomas walk around the room, Jimmy pulled out a chair in front of Thomas’ and waited, leaning forwards on his elbows. His palms pressed together like a prayer. Without him realising, his foot began to jump.

‘Here.’ Thomas said, snapping Jimmy out of his mindlessness.

Jimmy accepted the tea. Thomas sat down again. Neither man said anything.

Sour guilt rotted away in Jimmy’s chest.

‘Look, Jimmy, I know last night was probably confusin’ and I shouldn’t’ve let you stay. I should’ve made you go to your room and waited for you to drop off. I’m sorry.’

For the first time that whole day, Jimmy met his eyes in bewilderment. Thomas, staring into his tea, looked as guilty as Jimmy felt.

‘Don’t be stupid, it was what I needed. I…’ Jimmy’s voice caught, ‘I can’t thank you enough for what you did. That were kind of you, maybe the kindest thing anyone’s done for me, and all I’ve done since is been a prat.’

‘There’s somethin’ else.’

‘Yeah?’

Thomas let out a deep sigh before he spoke.

‘I know I’ve got things wrong before an’ seen things that weren’t there, but I just wanted to say…’

The older man stared off for a moment. Jimmy could tell he was biting or chewing the inside of his mouth from the hollow that formed in his cheek, like a knife had scooped out his flesh. He shuffled his chair closer to Thomas.

‘… I’m fully aware that I’m not young an’ fit like I used to be. I’m not even nice. If you’re gonna do this, for God’s sake Jimmy,’ Thomas turned to Jimmy with a sloping smile that didn’t reach his eyes, like he really wanted Jimmy to laugh this off and tell him it was all a joke, ‘go for someone better than me.’

Jimmy sat and stared at him. His mouth pressed into a line.

‘Thomas, you’re wrong. You- you’re so, so wrong, I’ve always thought you were handsome- ’

‘For God’s sake, Jimmy! Don’t act like you don’t have eyes!’ Thomas snarled, ‘I don’t need to be treated like an imbecile by you- half me clothes don’t fit anymore and I’m pretty damn sure you called me comfortable last night, so don’t you _dare_ pretend you can’t see me when it’s blatantly bloody obvious I’ve changed!’

The chair scraped as Jimmy got to his feet and set the tea on the table. He glared down at Thomas.

‘Do you honestly think this is about your fucking trousers?’ Jimmy demanded.

‘You practically sprinted out the room this mornin’!’

‘Because!’ Jimmy yelled, voice breaking, ‘Because you’re a man! Because you’re my best friend and I can’t stop thinkin’ about how you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen!’

Thomas stood up, leaving his tea on the desk. Jimmy didn’t bother stopping himself from rolling his eyes at the fact that the first thing he did was lower his gaze to the straining waist coat. That bloody waist coat was going to be the death of him and he didn’t know whether he wanted Thomas to keep it forever or burn it.

‘What?’ Thomas breathed.

‘I don’t know what it was like for you when you realised, but, Thomas, I’ve never been attracted to a man before and- and, you’re my best friend in the world! How am I meant to deal with that when I’m stuck in this place with you?’

‘Jimmy, if you’re windin’ me up- ’

Jimmy interrupted with a frustrated shout, dragging his hands through his hair. The urge to hit something, Thomas not ruled out, grew fast. He took a deep breath.

‘Thomas Barrow. I fancy you. Get it into your stupid head.’

‘Really?’

Jimmy let his hands fall to his sides and looked at Thomas. Big grey eyes, wide and amazed, his full lips wavering on a brilliant smile. Jimmy tilted his head to one side as lust surged in his chest.

‘Yes.’

‘Even like this?’

‘Thomas, you could be twice as heavy or a little matchstick man, and I’d love every bit of you.’

The difference between a second and an age blurred. Before Jimmy knew it, or maybe after far too long of Jimmy letting himself gaze into Thomas’ eyes properly for the first time, Thomas closed the space between them, took Jimmy by the back of the head in one hand and his arm in the other, and kissed him. Jimmy forgot to breathe.

And then it was over. Thomas released him, leaving Jimmy panting and breathless, gaping up at him. His hand went to Thomas’ neck. Thomas’ pulse raced.

‘What was that for?’ Jimmy asked in a small voice.

‘I love you too.’ Thomas said simply. He beamed.

He didn’t need to step up onto his toes to kiss Thomas, but he couldn’t stop himself, nor from grabbing Thomas’ hips and pulling him in. As Thomas’ fingers dug into his scalp, Jimmy’s wandered up Thomas’ sides, eventually settling on his back. Thomas dipped his head, taking Jimmy’s bottom lip, sending Jimmy’s head spinning. Thomas’ soft belly bumped into him. He moaned into Thomas’ mouth.

‘Christ…’ Jimmy mumbled, ‘Fucking hell, I’m… I’m in love with my best friend.’

Thomas chuckled and pulled away, only to dip back and plant kisses down Jimmy’s neck, to his shoulder, pushing back the material of his night shirt to reveal tanned skin. His mouth moved to Jimmy’s collar bone, giving Jimmy the opportunity, the privilege, of weaving his fingers through Thomas’ neat hair and ruining it. His fingertips ran down the back of Thomas neck as Thomas worked his way along exposed skin, yanking down more and more of Jimmy’s night shirt until it dug into his arm from stretching.

‘God, that’s good.’ Jimmy gasped, nails pinching Thomas’ skin.

Jimmy nearly cried when Thomas straightened up and gazed down at him. Thomas took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

‘Upstairs?’ Thomas asked.

‘Definitely.’

‘Might give Mrs Patmore a heart attack.’ Thomas chuckled as he pulled Jimmy along to the stairs.

‘Why’d you have to say that?’ Jimmy grimaced.

While Jimmy felt like a sweating, stumbling mess, Thomas remained as smooth and composed as ever when he shut them into his bedroom. Jimmy’s fingers fluttered by his sides as Thomas crossed the room, slowly like a cat, eyes hooded and a contradictory, small, sweet smile pushing at the corners of his mouth. Tiny fireworks went off in Jimmy’s head. Every thought he’d had running up the upstairs vanished and replaced by the sight of Thomas leaning down to meet his lips.

Thomas breathed heavily as he kissed. His hands slipped comfortably to Jimmy’s waist, gradually drawing them together, the pressure and the curve of his middle fitting into Jimmy as if they were always meant to be this way. Jimmy wrapped his arms around Thomas’ neck, rising slowly onto his toes. His back arched.

‘Is this alright?’ Thomas said between kisses.

Jimmy nodded and tugged at the collar of Thomas’ shirt.

‘Get this off.’

This time, Thomas really did pause and eyed Jimmy. One of his hands rubbed Jimmy’s side.

‘I’ll only go… as… far as you want me to.’ Thomas replied breathlessly. His cheeks had turned pink. Jimmy grinned and nodded again.

‘How do we do this?’

Thomas gestured to the bed, smirking.

‘I’ll show you.’

Jimmy stepped out of his embrace and tore his shirt off over his head with speed. Then, he went straight to the bed and lay back on his elbows. Thomas, only halfway through unbuttoning his waist coat, stared and laughed.

‘Eager?’

‘Very.’

‘Crikey,’ Thomas said, flinging the waist coat away and making quick work of his shirt, ‘I’ll remember that.’

‘You better, you’ve got me shirtless on your bed.’

Finally, Thomas let his shirt drop to the floor and walked slowly over to Jimmy. He wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes and mouth and turned thoughtful as he stepped up to the bed, standing over Jimmy.

Jimmy nearly fell off said bed as he gawked up at him.

‘Jesus Christ, Thomas.’ he breathed.

The older man frowned. ‘What?’

Soft chest, soft paunch, gentle rolls on either side of his hips, his shoulders broad and round and strong. Pale skin and dark hair trailing down his chest to just peeking over his trousers. His hair was all loose and floppy, the pomade forming it into pieces like lines of ink. He breathed slightly heavily, the pink flush now blooming down his neck.

‘Just… Just get over here.’ Jimmy said dumbly.

Shaking his head, Thomas’ face relaxed and went back to smirking almost evilly. Carefully, Thomas swung one leg over and climbed onto the bed so that he knelt between Jimmy’s legs. Jimmy tried not to shake. Nerves zipped up and down his body.

‘The moment you want me to stop,’ Thomas said in a low voice, sliding his hands under Jimmy’s thighs and tugging him gently up so that his knees bent, ‘you just tell me.’

‘I can’t believe I’m doin’ this with you.’

Jimmy tentatively reached up and slid his fingertips up Thomas’ stomach. He gulped.

‘So that’s what I felt this mornin’.’ Thomas said softly, ‘I told you it was bad.’

‘You are… beautiful.’

With that, Thomas’ hands glided down Jimmy’s thighs, his arse, and finally pressed into the mattress so that he could lean over him. Silently, his lips brushed Jimmy’s smooth chest.

His fingers made easy work of Jimmy’s trousers, tugging them off like tissue paper. Jimmy’s breath shuddered as his neck arched and his eyes shut. Thomas cupped his thighs and took his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘Relax, Jimmy.’

All Jimmy could do not to cry out as Thomas’ fingers performed miracles. He whimpered and gritted his teeth, clawing at the brilliant swell of flesh that was Thomas’ stomach, his sides, pressed down on him with warm weight.

The only time Thomas disappeared was to remove his own trousers, to which Jimmy responded by pushing his hands down his back to his arse, as Thomas chuckled at the pathetic mewls he was drawing out of Jimmy. Jimmy kissed his neck and made sure to let his teeth lightly graze his skin. Thomas pushed his fingers a fraction deeper. Jimmy gasped.

‘You arse.’ Jimmy gasped, ‘You’ve turned me into a girl’s bloody blouse.’

‘And I am very, very pleased you aren’t.’ Thomas teased, breath warm and moist in his ear.

Jimmy jumped and wriggled under him, clutching the back on Thomas’ neck. Girl’s blouse indeed. He squeezed his eyes shut again. Thomas. His best friend, Thomas.

‘Thomas, stop.’

Thomas froze over him. For a second, the only sounds were that of them panting and catching their breaths. Jimmy’s heart pounded. Thomas’ face, his sharp and soft face, fought for control over his widening eyes.

Thomas began to retreat and pull his hands away when Jimmy’s hand snapped out and grabbed his arm. He tugged the arm, bringing Thomas and his warmth back to him.

‘Sorry… just not ready for all that yet.’ Jimmy said, his voice too light and strained.

Thomas brought his hand up to cup Jimmy’s jaw. A small, dimpled smile tugged at the corners of Thomas mouth. He dipped his head and pecked the tip of Jimmy’s nose.

‘That’s fine.’ Thomas whispered as he lifted his head, ‘D’you want to do anythin’ else?’

Craning his neck, Jimmy lifted himself up just enough to kiss that bottom lip he’d had his eye on.

‘More of this.’

‘Well, I don’t have objections.’

Jimmy glanced down at the way Thomas was balanced over him and his own hand which gripped Thomas’ arm. His mouth stretched into a wide, mischievous grin.

‘What are – ’

Before Thomas could finish his sentence, Jimmy yanked his arm down and flipped them around as Thomas landed, cackling and wheezing, underneath him. Clambering on top of Thomas, he paused before he made any moves. Thomas had his head thrown back, shaking with laughter until he had to clamp a hand over his mouth.

‘You wanker!’ Thomas sputtered.

Jimmy shrugged innocently.

‘Thought it was my turn.’

Thomas’ laughter died after a few moments, though his usually composed face twitched as he fought for control again. Jimmy ducked his head and planted a gentle kiss on his bare shoulder, before sighing happily and settling himself on top of him. He lay one arm lazily over Thomas’ stomach and looped a leg around Thomas’. The older man chuckled and slid his arm under Jimmy’s neck, letting his fingers tickle Jimmy’s scalp until Jimmy was almost purring.

Jimmy didn’t think about it when he ran his hand up and down Thomas’ stomach. He tilted his chin up so he could gaze up at Thomas’ face, which, despite droplets of sweat, looked calmer than he had ever looked in the time they had known each other. His eyes focused on a patch of pale skin where jaw softened into neck, and the faintest shadow of stubble was beginning to show. Jimmy stretched up to kiss the spot and settled back down.

‘I love you, Thomas.’

Thomas twisted his head to look at Jimmy. His eyes twinkled like sunlight catching on the surface of a deep, grey lake.

‘I love you, Jimmy. I love you so much.’

‘And I think you’re lovely…’ Jimmy snorted, ‘Never said that ‘bout a man before.’

‘That’s kind of you.’

Jimmy scrunched his nose. ‘Kind? I’m not sayin’ all this pretty shite to be kind.’

Thomas gave his arm a squeeze. Jimmy shifted and pulled Thomas’ leg closer. He shifted again. Thomas’ thigh nudged into him.

‘Thomas?’

‘Yeah?’

‘This bloody bed’s too small for two men.’

Thomas glanced sardonically down at him. ‘I hadn’t noticed. Was it you movin’ about like a mouse or me belly that gave it away?

‘Shut up.’ Jimmy said, lifting his head up properly so that his chin rested on Thomas’ chest, ‘I keep tellin’ you, you’re bloody lovely like this,’ he ran his fingers down to Thomas’ hip on the opposite side from him and squeezed, ‘I keep losin’ my head over this.’

‘Really?’ Thomas asked doubtfully, rubbing his hand over the rounded part of his stomach, ‘I could lose it all, probably. Might take a while.’

‘Only if you want to.’ Jimmy paused, biting his lip, ‘I don’t care either way, as long as you’re happy.’

‘Don’t know. Haven’t decided yet.’ Thomas laughed, ‘Would you believe I used to be a catch?’

‘God, you’re annoyin’.’

‘That’s a cultivated talent, young man.’


	6. The Moon and the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for some very original sun and moon symbolism.

Jimmy practically skipped down to breakfast. Light on his feet, he swung into the servant’s hall and sat himself down at his usual place, not caring that Mrs Hughes’ eyebrows shot into the air when he greeted her, nor that Mr and Mrs Bates looked progressively more confused as he chattered away to Alfred and the hall-boys.

‘You’re awfully happy this morning, Jimmy.’ Mrs Bates said next to him, offering one of her characteristically kind smiles.

‘There’s a lot to be happy about.’ Jimmy chirped.

‘Well, I’m glad. You seemed very down yesterday.’

Jimmy blinked. He’d forgotten about that already.

‘It’s a new day, Mrs Bates, can’t be down forever.’ He replied.

As Daisy hurried in with toast and jams and eggs, Jimmy was about to ask if anyone had seen Thomas, when the man himself swept in. Jimmy’s glanced up and felt his mouth stretch into an even wider smile, if such a thing was possible. His cheeks warmed as though lying under the sun.

Thomas sat down without a word, but turned his head to Jimmy and grinned boyishly. The expression was fleeting, and he quickly went about reaching for toast as the sounds of talking around them grew, but it was secret and real. Jimmy bit the inside of his mouth to keep himself from bursting into euphoric laughter.

They had slept until the small hours of the morning. Though Jimmy had snuck out in time to dress for the day, even that had been delayed with Thomas dotting every inch of visible skin with tiny cold kisses.

Jimmy sipped his tea as the memory played out in his mind. He would have to repay Thomas later. Fizzy pink excitement buzzed in his chest as he contemplated where he would ambush him.

‘You’re very cheerful.’

Jimmy set down his tea. Thomas’ face betrayed nothing to anyone else, but Jimmy could see the corner of his mouth quirk slightly.

‘I wonder why, Mr Barrow.’

‘Is it a mystery to you?’

‘No,’ he said, leaning closer to Thomas, ‘I had very good dream, you see.’

Thomas’ eyes twinkled. His mouth quirked again. That meant he was struggling not to laugh.

The morning of work flew by Jimmy like the wind. Even teasing Alfred was a breeze and not a routine, especially now that he could see Thomas watching. Carrying masses of suitcases for the Ladies upstairs turned into the best game he had ever played.

‘Mr Barrow?’ he called in the corridor outside the servant’s hall.

‘Yes?’

Thomas turned sharply. The razor angles of his face softened instantly at the sight of Jimmy.

‘Could you help me a moment?’ Jimmy nodded in the direction of the boot room, ‘Won’t take long.’

Thomas narrowed his eyes but followed him anyway. As soon as they entered the room, Jimmy shut the door behind him and took Thomas’ hand. Thomas raised an eyebrow.

‘What are you doin’?’ he asked gently.

Jimmy placed his other hand on the side of Thomas’ neck and pressed a slow kiss into his lips. The sound of Thomas sucking in a breath pushed him further, letting his tongue take Thomas’ and hum happily into the older man’s mouth.

‘Jimmy…’ Thomas said between breaths, ‘Come on, you… have work to do.’

‘Won’t take long.’ Jimmy murmured, planting a quick kiss to Thomas’ cheek and smiling primly, ‘Told you.’

Thomas squeezed his hand. ‘I hope there’s more where that came from?’

‘Plenty.’

Jimmy patted his chest and sat back down with a candelabra and a pot of polish. A fresh grin grew on his face as Thomas’ shoes padded on the stone floor behind him, and the man slid his arms around Jimmy’s shoulders, kissing the top of his head as he polished.

‘I need a smoke. When’s your next break?’ Thomas asked, resting his chin on Jimmy’s head.

‘Shouldn’t you know that?’

‘Some tiny blond man keeps distractin’ me.’

The door clicked. Thomas stepped back, taking his warmth with him. Glancing up, Jimmy watched as Mrs Bates walked in with a long pair of riding boots in her arms. Her mouth tensed.

‘Are you alright?’ Thomas asked from behind him.

Mrs Hughes startled as though she hadn’t realised anyone was there. She smiled for a second, but worry replaced it soon enough.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Barrow, I’m just…’ she took a deep breath and smiled again, ‘I’m a little rushed off my feet today, that’s all.’

‘I can do those for you, Mrs Bates?’ Jimmy piped up, ‘They’re Lady Mary’s, right?’

‘Oh. That’s generous of you, Jimmy.’ she said, surprised.

Jimmy shrugged. ‘It’s not a problem, just pop them beside me and I’ll get them shining in no time.’

‘Thank you,’ Mrs Bates said, her face relaxing and shoulders dropping as she set the boots down the table, ‘that really is very kind.’

‘Thom- Mr Barrow?’

Jimmy peered around Mrs Bates. Daisy appeared in the doorway balancing a plate against her body. Jimmy’s mouth watered. A tidy, crumbling mound of brownies filled the air with sugar goodness. Thomas stepped around the table and smiled at the newcomer.

‘Yes, Daisy?’

‘I’m handing these around, would you all like one?’ Daisy said, looking at each of them.

‘Daisy, have I ever told you you’re my favourite person in the world?’ Jimmy said dreamily.

Mrs Bates laughed, while Thomas shook his head despairingly. Mrs Bates went first, taking a brownie and pausing by the table as she nibbled away. Jimmy was up in a flash, snatching one up as if they might vanish and biting down before he could even sit again. He sighed.

‘Well then,’ Thomas said, ‘don’t mind if I do.’

Thomas walked over, thanked Daisy, and picked up three. Jimmy, too busy enjoying the chocolate overrunning his senses, didn’t notice until Daisy spoke again.

‘That’s a lot, isn’t it?’

Jimmy’s head snapped up. His gaze switched from a bemused Daisy to Thomas, who had frozen on the spot with brownies in hand.

‘Is it?’ Thomas asked evenly.

Apparently oblivious, Daisy shrugged and continued, ‘Maybe not, there’s plenty to go around anyway.’

Her gaze flicked from the brownies to Thomas stomach. Dread sunk in Jimmy’s chest.

‘Oh… Uh, sorry,’ Thomas stammered, ‘you’re right, I’ll- I’ll put these back- ‘

‘Don’t worry, Mr Barrow. Like I said, there’s loads here, I made too many.’ Daisy scoffed, though smiling, and left.

Jimmy’s mouth opened and shut. His eyes widened. Mrs Bates, on the other hand, seemed unaffected. She moved to Thomas and pressed a hand to him arm. Lips pursed, jaw clenched, Thomas’ gaze flashed to her as if he were about to shoot her down.

‘I’m sure she meant nothing by it.’ she said sweetly, ‘Daisy isn’t the most… tactful.’

Thomas looked like he was either going to explode into rage or crumble like the brownies on that plate. Mrs Bates smiled and left. Jimmy watched as Thomas stared after her.

‘Thomas?’ he said nervously.

‘Jimmy?’ Thomas said just above a whisper, his voice cracking.

In a breath, Jimmy dashed over to him and pressed his fingers around Thomas’ upper arms. One hand flitted to Thomas’ face and cupped his cheek.

‘It’s like Mrs Bates said,’ Jimmy started, ‘Daisy meant nothin’ by that.’

Thomas shook his head.

‘Thomas, I promise… You don’t care what people think, and you’re –’

‘Yes! I do!’ Thomas snapped, tears pooling, ‘I care what they bloody think!’

‘What about what I think?’

Thomas said nothing.

‘I think,’ Jimmy said shakily, stroking Thomas’ face with his thumb, ‘you’re face goes all soft now when you smile, and there’s this bit,’ Jimmy pressed his thumb to a spot just under Thomas’ jaw, ‘right here that I always want to kiss. Your arms are wonderful for sleeping on… so’s here,’ he pressed a palm to Thomas’ chest, and then caressed down his belly, ‘and here, ‘cause you bump into me sometimes, all… all heavy and soft, and you don’t realise. Makes me head do somersaults when that happens and you’re lookin’ down at me like I’m special… like you did last night.’

He stepped onto his toes and kissed Thomas’ cheek. As he did, his hand that wasn’t on Thomas’ face slid around to the small, gentle curve of flesh just above his hips. Thomas closed his eyes.

‘I like holding you here,’ Jimmy continued, ‘and I can’t wait to go back to bed and do it all again with you. And I love you.’

It did hurt and whisk his breath away when Thomas shoved him against the boot room door and the back of his head hit it, but he didn’t mind. Thomas kissed hard and desperately, giving Jimmy no time to breath or think, or do anything other than whimper when Thomas pushed his tongue into his mouth. Jimmy brought his arms up to wrap around Thomas’ neck, but Thomas wove his fingers through Jimmy’s and pressed them up against the door.

When Thomas bit down slightly on Jimmy’s bottom lip, Jimmy’s legs nearly gave out. This was also the moment Thomas chose to pull back, chest heaving, hair dishevelled. Jimmy ran a hand through his own hair as Thomas stepped back.

‘So…’ Jimmy breathed, ‘I… What?’

Before Jimmy could form a coherent thought, Thomas closed the distance, only this time he lay his arms on Jimmy’s shoulders at the base of his neck. His belly bumped into Jimmy. He beamed like moonlight.

‘I love you.’ Thomas said simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this thing for a week non-stop and it nearly didn't have an ending. Luckily, those terrible deviants on discord helped me. This is for all of you! Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is essentially a competition between Jimmy and Thomas to see who has the lowest brain cell count.


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